We stepped into the massive three-story library. Nope, he couldn't even curl up with a book somewhere normal. Standing just inside the vast room, I scowled at the grandeur. I knew I should appreciate it. It was better to have too much than not enough. But again, this wasn't mine. These books, on their towering, hand-carved, glorious bookshelves, were treasures. Each leather-bound volume with its delicate gilding was priceless. These books had been collected by the Royals of Fairy for thousands of years. It was our version of the Library of Alexandria.
And there wasn't a single paperback copy of a J.R. Ward novel in the entire place. I grimaced. As I said, this was a treasury. It wasn't mine. If it were, paperbacks would rule, lined up and stacked upon each other. Stuffed into every cranny. Their bindings creased in proof of their value. The scent of old paper would soothe me. Not this fresh citrus bullshit. And there would be a squishy chair by the window with a little table for my coffee mug. Not the exquisitely carved sets of reading tables spotting the center of the room over plush carpets older than my father.
Ironically, I'd always wanted a two-story library. You know, one of those with the rolling ladder so I could pose on it like a girl from Bridgerton. But I had envisioned something warm and cozy, not a room large enough to have a concert in, the ceiling looming three-stories above. I wanted one rolling ladder, not two sets of spiral stairs, tucked in corners on opposite sides of the room. I certainly didn't think to have bookshelves lined up like soldiers under the mezzanines of the library. Mezzanines! Yeah, that's what they called the upper two levels that opened to the central space. I had to learn that when I first moved in.
Maybe I was just annoyed that I couldn't read most of the books there. You know, cause they were written in Fey, and I still don't know the language. Ugh! That's so embarrassing.
A few fairies strolled through the stacks on all levels, but the space was so enormous that they didn't notice us coming in. But then I remembered that I hadn't scried Killian and exclaimed, “Damn it!”
A few of the fairies glanced at us and bowed. I waved distractedly with one hand as I pulled out my scry phone with the other.
“What is it?” Tiernan glanced back at me on his way to the stacks on the right.
“Nothing. I just need to tell Kill what's going on. He's probably worried.” I opened the phone. “Prince Killian Blair Firerain of Twilight.”
I kept walking as the clear slice of crystal filled with mist. It condensed into Killian's face seconds later. He must have had his phone out. I felt horrible.
“Seren, what's going on?” Kill demanded, his auburn hair wild.
“I'm sorry I haven't scried sooner, babe. It's been a long day. There's some kind of blight here. It came up through the ground, seeped into plants, and covered fairies in dark rope. It . . . did something to them. We're not sure what. They're physically drained but act calm. Too calm.”
“A blight that makes people calm?” He scowled.
“Seren, what did it look like?” Sever leaned into view behind Killian.
“Like oil. Crude oil. Fey magic didn't work on it. I had to use Light. The Light drove it back, and it made a terrible shrieking sound.” I followed Tiernan and Falcas down an aisle formed of bookshelves and lowered my voice.
“I don't like the sound of that,” Sever said.
“Yeah, no shit, dude. She just said the sound was terrible.” Killian smirked at Sever.
Sever rolled his eyes.
“Where are the girls?” I eyed the old Seelie books.
Each one of them looked like a wizard's spell book, even though they were probably books on plants and geology or some shit like that. Fairies loved horticulture. I mean, theylovedit. Those who didn't have the magic to help plants grow, learned how to do it the old-fashioned way. It was like a sacred duty to Danu.
“Miri's asleep,” Sever said.
“Rowan's in her room, getting ready for bed,” Killian added. “We're here with Dad and Eibhleann, having some hot cider while we waited for you to scry.” He moved the phone so I could see them, sitting on a couch in the family room—a hub in the royal suite that connected the towers.
“I'm sorry I kept you waiting.” I glanced down. We'd gone from the old rugs in the main part of the library to a hardwood floor. But even the wood was pretty, polished to a shine that made it look as if it were infused with gold. Ugh! Why was beauty bothering me? How ridiculous! “We had to free people from the blight and bring them back here. We're still in the process of moving them, but Tiernan, Fal, and I are in the library now.We're going to see if we can find anything about this blight. It couldn't have just appeared. Someone must have dealt with it before.”
“I'll look through my books too,” my dad said.
“Thanks, Dad. The blight touched Tiernan briefly, and he said it felt like it was seeping into his heart.”
“His heart?” Keir leaned forward.
Tiernan held out his hand. “May I?”
“Sure.” I gave him the phone. “Your Majesty.” Tiernan inclined his head.
My father smiled, but it was an expression of affectionate tolerance. Tiernan had been like a son to him long before I came to Fairy. When he'd been cast out of Seelie, my dad gave Tiernan sanctuary in Twilight. He was there for years before he became a hunter, and then a Lord of the Wild Hunt. Years later, we met and got married. He was technically Keir's son by marriage now and did call him father on occasion. But this was a serious conversation, and in Tiernan's mind, that called for a title. Because he had offered one, Dad had to respond in kind.
“King Tiernan, are you all right?”
“I'm fine. Thank you. I wanted to clarify. When I told Seren it felt as if it were seeping into my heart, I meant that it was seeking out my emotions. Upon reflection, I believe it specifically wanted my darker emotions.”
